When Life Hands You Lemons
by GoldenGrace
Summary: …Put them in your sweet tea and thank your southern captors' hospitality. Glenn has been kidnapped, and surprisingly, it's turning out not to be so bad. He might just even like it. (Glenn/Maggie; Set from season 2 on: "We can't just keep strange men!" – Beth)
1. Off the Beaten Path and Up a Creek

Disclaimer: I do not own "The Walking Dead" in any way unfortunately.

A/N: This takes place at the beginning of Season 2 when Sophia is missing but changes direction from that point forward. - GG

* * *

Chapter 1: Off the Beaten Path and Up a Creek

-GLENN-

Glenn was getting tired of the whole imminent emergency thing.

The group had barely managed to escape the CDC unscathed if Jacqui's decision to "opt out" didn't count, and yet, they were already facing another crisis. The herd, as they'd dubbed the crowd of lethargic walkers ambling down the road, had passed, and Glenn sighed in relief.

_One less worry._ He thought, but he should have known better.

Sophia was missing.

Though Rick wasn't directly responsible, Rick _was_ directly responsible at least according to Carol. The two stray walkers from the herd that had chased the twelve-year-old into the tree line and what was presumed to be Sophia's own disregard to heed Rick's directions and prematurely abandon the hiding spot had nothing to do with how things turned out in Carol's eyes. Glenn didn't blame her for wanting to place fault. She was grasping.

What he was more worried about was the look in Carol's eyes. If his hunch was right, the woman was only projecting the blame she felt onto Rick for not protecting her daughter herself. Then again, Carol always had that expression—fearful, desperate, bitter, and Glenn understood a little more why Sophia hadn't stayed put.

She hadn't trusted anyone, even if it was someone as dependable as Rick, to pull through for her. Sophia had been abandoned as far as she knew, and learning from her mother Glenn suspected, the girl frightfully returned to what she knew and wound up even more lost in the process.

Four of them had set out from the highway as soon it was evident that Sophia hadn't returned, and Rick's pulse in his temple had barely had time to settle from the run through the woods before he was back out among the trees. Judging by Lori and Dale's concerned expressions, Glenn knew he wasn't the only one thinking the man needed to take a break, but Rick was too good of a man to simply stop.

He had even promised Carol that he would find her daughter. He had said it with such determination that Glenn wondered how he could be that hopeful after everything their group had witnessed and experienced. They'd seen the horrors of the world and knew how quickly everything could turn disastrous. Yet, Rick didn't seem to falter in his determination.

Glenn supposed parents didn't get that luxury, at least not verbally. They had to remain strong regardless of the fear of failure nagging at their mind and heart while still keeping face, especially in front of their children. Glenn couldn't imagine what that was like. He was doing well enough taking care of himself.

Him…with a kid? He'd pass.

Not that he minded kids. He was fine with indirectly helping to protect them and the group at large. He even enjoyed a laugh with Carl and Sophia sometimes, found it fun to play monopoly with them or play catch with Carl once or twice. It was the undeniable responsibility that came with having children which seemed daunting to Glenn.

Parenthood was hard enough he speculated, but with walkers in the mix, he shuddered at the amount of strength it took to keep face for a child and worry about danger always lurking. And as he watched Rick inadvertently rise up to gain authority in their group, he presumed the man had even less room for hesitation. Do or don't. That was it, and Rick had chosen to bring Sophia home at all costs.

Not everyone felt the same however.

Shane had grown irritated by the thought of hanging around the area as soon as the situation was assessed and it lead to a dead end. Rick had led them and Daryl to the bramble covered piece of creek bed he had hidden Sophia. From there, they followed the weak tracks of her tennis shoes which came to a sudden stop, and after a bit of aimless walking in the area calling out her name, their search party slowed to a stop as well.

Glenn wiped at the sweat on his brow, sucking up the urge to sit. If there was one thing he had learned navigating the world post-outbreak, it was that sitting didn't come when desired or even when needed, and with a child missing, sitting was equivalent to throwing in the towel. The sun lowering in the sky as late afternoon fell wasn't encouraging.

They should have found her already, and Glenn knew that T-Dog had to have been bandaged up as best as possible given their circumstances at the mercy of the highway. Any distraction his injury had served for the rest of the group and Carol who had been attending the man along with Lori would be gone. Everyone would be anticipating their return with Sophia no doubt, and Glenn feared emerging from the woods without the girl.

However, that didn't change the fact that the trail was cold.

"We ain't gonna find her this way," Daryl commented as they arbitrarily trudged further into the woods and thereby further away from the highway.

"He's right," Glenn agreed. "She could have gone in any direction."

"Then, let's come up with a Plan B," Rick suggested.

"It's gonna get dark soon, only got a couple more hours of daylight. So, whatever we're gonna do we gotta get to it or call it a day," Shane wiped at his neck and sighed in agitation.

"Well, we aren't calling it a day…What do you have in mind?" Rick asked, clearly not impressed by the man's flippancy.

"You ain't gonna like it," Shane snorted.

"Try me."

"I say we split up."

"Ain't a bad idea," Daryl agreed though the roll of his eyes said otherwise. "Cover more ground. She can't have gone far."

It was a bad idea in Glenn's opinion. It was irresponsible to go it alone. They had no idea what kind of dangers they could find in the woods, and with no one watching each other's backs, any number of problems could arise. Besides, no one knew exactly where the herd had migrated to after passing by and cresting over the hill of the highway.

Yet, whereas they were better equipped to handle themselves, Sophia wasn't, and he ignored the little voice in his head telling him it was a bad idea to split up. The little voice was beginning to sound an awful lot like Dale lately; Glenn noticed. If the other men were going to be asinine and take the risk, he would roll with the punches. He just hoped for Sophia's sake it paid off, and they found her soon.

"If we head in more directions from this point, one of us will have to come across her…Right?" Glenn said.

No one answered him outright, and their lack of confidence only confirmed his belief that it was a wrong move.

"I don't know. I'm not sure we should split up," Rick shook his head. "That's how we got in this situation in the first place."

"You mean how _you_ got us in this situation." Shane started

"_Seriously_?" Glenn bit out.

Shane snarled at him in disgust, but Glenn stood his ground, slightly shocked that he had spoken up at all. He had never had a problem with Shane at the quarry camp, but the more days passed since Rick joined the group, he could see Shane changing incrementally. It was if he was finally showing his true colors with mood swings alternately from temperamental to friendly without much segue.

Glenn wasn't for picking sides between the two men, and he hoped it didn't come down to that. Yet, the tension between Shane and Rick was growing a bit more with each conflict. Any evidence the group had was circumstantial at best, but everyone knew without really knowing that something had transpired between Shane and Lori to cause the friendship to be unsettled. The extent of whatever had transpired was debatable depending on who was asked.

All Glenn saw though was a melodrama beginning to causes waves that didn't need to be addressed when looking for a child.

There was a beat of silence in which Shane glared at Glenn, Rick narrowed his eyes at Shane, and Daryl's fingertips inched toward his bow, prepared to handle whoever needed handling.

"Wastin' time," Daryl said after a few minutes. "We go in different directions. Meet up here before sunset. I'll take this-a-ways…_gettin' tired of ya'll anyways_."

"Yeah and what if someone doesn't come back?" Rick called to Daryl who was already trudging away.

Glenn caught Shane's beady-eyed look at Rick without him noticing, and alarm coursed through him as he remembered Dale's confession in confidence at the CDC. The older man had witnessed Shane stalking Rick in the woods at the quarry camp. Glenn hadn't honestly put too much stock in Dale's claim, thinking his friend was growing paranoid, but seeing the look firsthand, he saw what Dale must have seen.

There was something frightening in Shane's eye, reminding him of walkers' eyes when they were fixated on their prey.

"Pussies can't find your way back that's ya'lls problem," Daryl called over his shoulder.

"Well, I'll take this way," Shane drawled out and stomped off as well.

Glenn's gaze lingered on his back, suddenly hoping the man wasn't thinking of taking advantage of the opportunity away from the group for his own benefit. If so, Sophia wouldn't be the only one missing.

"We can go together," Rick suggested, and Glenn's attention snapped to him.

It was the wisest plan to cover the most ground but still stay safe, and they all knew well enough to know that. Yet, ready to find Sophia, get out the woods, and back on the road, Glenn shrugged. Fort Benning or bust was the goal after all. Besides, the less time they spent in the woods, the less time Shane had to kill Rick if he was actually going to follow through.

"No it's fine. I got it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Glenn nodded assuredly before taking a few steps, but he turned on his heel before he got too far. "Hey, Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't get yourself killed," He said nonchalantly.

"You either," Rick laughed none the wiser.

Glenn pushed aside the guilt he felt for not accompanying Rick. As if he could stop Shane should he want Rick dead at all costs. If a man could kill his best friend, he could certainly kill the novel Asian guy tagging along, and Glenn didn't exactly want to be collateral damage. Perhaps, he was selfish, but he wasn't in the woods to protect Rick. He was in the woods to help bring Sophia to safety. He'd cross his fingers for Rick's sake.

With the rest of the men heading other ways, Glenn was left to take the direction doubling back toward the creek, and with his gun at the ready, he headed straight, feeling glad no one could see him when he looked over his shoulder just to be sure. He didn't need to get lost too, and he groaned at the thought of something so embarrassing. If that should happen, he might have to stay lost simply to avoid the teasing he knew several in the group could dish out.

As he walked, Glenn called out Sophia's name tentatively, not wanting to rouse any walkers possibly nearby but hoping the girl would hear if she was close. The creek bed had long since disappeared behind him and more than an hour had passed when Glenn stumbled upon another. Curiously, he inched toward the incline that was more severe than the one Sophia had been hidden at the bottom of. An obstacle course of trees, vines, and bramble led to a bottom of jagged rock before giving way to the muddy bed and murky water.

Glenn stayed close to the edge and forged a path ahead of him, cutting at tangles of thin branches in his way and cursing at them. He maintained an eye on the creek bed and tried not to acknowledge why he was so interested. The thought made him cringe. If Sophia had happened in the direction and stumbled down the incline, she could be hurt or worse, and Glenn hoped that wasn't the case. He hoped the girl had come running to Rick or Daryl, even Shane, when one of them called somewhere else in the woods.

Glenn was prepared to investigate elsewhere, perhaps find a spot to cross, when the lump caught his eye. It was trapped against a log half buried in the shallow water. He leaned in for a closer look and felt his weight plunge forward as he fell suddenly. The sound of wooden switches hitting him and his shoes thudding repeatedly on the ground filled his head until Glenn landed in a heap of pain at the bottom.

With a mouth full of water and mud, Glenn groaned. He was never more thankful for guns having safety mechanisms when he realized that his weapon had landed beside him with the barrel aimed at his side. He rolled over and cringed, expecting bruises to form if they hadn't already. Glenn pulled himself to his feet, remembering the strange lump and bitterly hoping he hadn't tumbled to the ground to find a big rock.

He was slightly stunned when he reached down to find Sophia's doll that had been buried in the mud. He gaped and looked around wildly as if the girl would wander out of the woodwork.

"Sophia!" He called splashing through the water as he twisted and turned.

He waited, but Sophia didn't appear.

"Sophia!" He tried again.

Nothing.

Dejected, Glenn picked up his hat and gun, and taking the doll, he looked for any indication of which way she could have gone. It wasn't the way he had come from, but that was about as far as Glenn's expertise went. He suddenly wished Daryl was with him. The redneck would be able to make heads and tails of the scene.

Everything was literally as clear as mud to Glenn, and he felt quite inept. He considered returning to the rendezvous point. However, Daryl would still be out looking in his direction anyways, and knowing for certain that Sophia had come that way, he couldn't think she had strayed too much farther. No, Glenn put himself back in Sophia's shoes and was rewarded when he found the hand print in the soft soil of the hill leading up the opposite side of the creek bed.

Dead straight ahead.

Glenn followed her cue and pulled himself up the other side. She was alive. He could feel it, feel that reality become more tangible with each step. There would be no digging roadside graves today. There would be no crying except for tears of joy when Sophia ran to embrace Carol.

He was surprised to pull himself up onto a thin dirt trail running the length of the creek bed, and he looked either way to make sure Sophia hadn't followed the path. Thankfully, there was no sign of her changing course late in the game, and Glenn was set to keep working his way straight through the brush when the noise alarmed him.

"_Sophia_?" He called out tentatively, and he clicked the safety off his gun in case walkers were to shuffle through instead.

Glenn turned around when nothing met his eyes and no sound was made again. He nearly thought his imagination had played a trick on him, but the sound reverberated around him again. He raised his gun.

"Soph…_oomph_!"

Pain erupted from the back of his head, and Glenn hadn't even registered what had happened to him when the second blow was administered. His second tumble down the hill was worse, and head over feet he rolled to the bottom. There were snapping sounds that couldn't all be contributed to the breaking limbs judging by the agony radiating through various points in his body, and his head hit the ground with a thump.

Water rushed into his ears. Glenn's vision was blurry, peppered with black spots, and without thought to his limbs sprawled out to all sides, Glenn watched the darkness invade his mind as he finally gave in to the exhaustion he had never truly been able to shake since the outbreak first began. He welcomed sleep, vaguely listening to the voice floating high above him.

"_You think he's dead_?"


	2. Things are not Always as They Seem

Disclaimer: I do not own "The Walking Dead" in any way unfortunately.

* * *

Chapter 2: Things are not Always as They Seem

-MAGGIE-

"You're coming with me."

It wasn't exactly what Maggie had in mind when she told her father Hershel she was going on a supply run…alone, but what got her off the farm, got her off the farm. And she wouldn't complain if it meant taking her younger sister with her for some sisterly bonding time per her father's request.

"Why?" Beth sat up in alert from the magazine she was engrossed in.

"Dad said to," Maggie shrugged. "Come on. Don't got all day."

_Faster we leave, longer we can stay out_. She thought, ready to escape the farm for a while.

"Well, I'm not listening to what Daddy says," Beth said haughtily.

"That'll be a first," Maggie rolled her eyes.

She was still unimpressed by her sister's supposed anger at their father, stemming from being caught with Jimmy alone in her bedroom with the door closed the day before. It was the funniest thing as far as Maggie was concerned, watching Beth and Hershel-the two most soften spoken people she knew-going at it. She was pretty sure they were loud enough to be heard from ten feet away, but she hadn't chanced it, choosing to remain planted against the wall in audience.

"Should I tell him you're making out with Jimmy and therefore..."

"—No!" Beth screeched and rolled off her bed, abandoning her magazine. "I'm coming. I'm coming."

"That's what Jimmy said," Maggie smirked proudly, and Beth's eyes grew wide as she tugged her boots on.

"Oh please, don't let Daddy hear you say that," Beth urged in a whisper.

"I thought you weren't listenin' to what Daddy says," She pointed out, and Beth rolled her eyes.

"Well, at least don't let Jimmy hear that. You'll give him ideas."

Maggie laughed, remembering her snort of amusement when Beth declared in fury that she and Jimmy had only been playing monopoly to which Jimmy piped up tentatively that he was winning. Her laughing stopped though when she caught Beth shudder, and Maggie's face paled, hoping her little sister really had been playing the board game scattered across the floor and not been up to other things.

Maggie shuddered herself, thinking of _her_ little sister messing around in haylofts and bushes like she had at her age. It was preposterous, but looking at her sister, wondering when the blonde had traded in her endless collection of horse t-shirts for stealing Maggie's more mature tops, it wasn't that preposterous.

She'd have to squabble over Beth's stealing of her shirt later.

"Wait," Maggie said deadpanned, stopping short on the stairs and nearly causing Beth to collide into her. "He's not pressuring you? Because if he is…"

…_Jimmy might just stumble into the locked barn by accident._ She thought.

No one would mess with her sister, at least if she didn't want them to, and Maggie inwardly groaned, wondering when and why Bethie had dared to grow up. She had been chucking Maggie's pregnancy pills into the duck pond only a couple years before, and now, she was closing her bedroom door with a boy inside. It was an unspoken rule in their household and thereby one to be strictly adhered to.

Since when was Beth a rule breaker? That was Maggie's prerogative.

"No," Beth scoffed though her cheeks were pink. "But he doesn't need that in his head, not with everything."

Beth had a point.

Maggie sighed. Jimmy's parents, the Fischers, were in the barn along with her stepmother Annette, stepbrother Shawn, and a whole slew of other infected people that her father and Otis had rounded up over the course of a few months stumbling through the Greenes' land. The barn had become the unofficial overflow room for those infected in their hometown who had somehow managed not to be enclosed in the fences and walls of the local high school like most had.

She paid a brief glance to the barn as they went toward the stable to saddle their horses. Someone, Otis at Hershel's request she presumed, had added another lock. It was bright and shiny with a gleam of sunshine radiating off of it, and Maggie wondered just how many fresh faces had been added to the barn for the old, splintered doors to warrant another lock and chain.

She didn't particularly want to know. Maggie loathed the barn, and her feeling had transferred to her dreams on more than one occasion, imagining the four walls and gabled roof collapsing in flames and consuming the _things_ within. Maggie knew the people weren't sick or even people anymore, clearly not ones in their right minds at least. She'd seen the light fade out of Annette and later Shawn's eyes and felt their pulses weaken and stop.

They'd died.

What appalled her most though was her father's blatant denial that the people in the barn had changed, and though Maggie missed her family and pitied what they had become, she was angered even more. Annette and Shawn had been stripped of who they were, and seeing their bodies walking around mindlessly was a cruel joke taunting those still living. For Maggie, the things in the barn weren't sick; keeping the things locked up in the barn was sick.

Only once had she aired her feelings, and only once had her father adamantly said he would never hear about them being dead again. Though her father was a good man and a good person, Hershel was also a man of convictions, and Maggie granted him his foolish hope, knowing she wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise. Hershel would have to realize the truth for himself.

Instead, Maggie took advantage of his predisposition to not think of harboring the undead as dangerous as she knew they were from the news before broadcast ceased and a few close calls with the undead milling in town. She became the resident errand runner for the farm without much problem, considering no one else wanted to ride a horse all the way into town given that gas was saved for the generator, and Maggie enjoyed it, reveling in the chance to escape the farm.

Having Beth tagalong wasn't all bad, and Maggie almost found it comical that her father was wary his daughters weren't spending enough time together not that he had sanctioned said daughters to ride out from the safety of home into town. Yet, what her father didn't know, didn't hurt him, and Maggie had learned her lesson after her first encounter screaming and fending off an undead person.

Beth's eyes grew wide when Maggie handed her Shawn's baseball bat.

"_Wh_-_what_ is this for?" Beth spluttered.

"Just in case," Maggie explained and took the bat from Beth's grasp, securing it to the horse's saddle.

"In case of what?" She asked with wide eyes.

"In case one of them comes at you. You get a good swing at them if you can't avoid them altogether and then get the hell away. Understand?"

Beth nodded weakly as she clambered up on to her horse, and Maggie did the same, feeling the comfort of Shawn's knife holstered to her hip and thinking of the pistol in the small of her back. Hershel hadn't even noticed it was gone from his gun locker, and she wasn't about to tell him.

"Come on," Maggie urged a now frightened Beth as they exited the stable on horseback. "We'll go this way so Dad doesn't see us…_Giddy up._"

They rode into town without interference, and she caught Beth's surprise at seeing their hometown abandoned. It was the first time Beth had seen what was left of their beloved town other than hearing about it. Tears welled in her eyes, but she kept them from falling as they clipped on horseback down the road. They stopped at the local grocery store, and after tethering their horses to the lampposts outside, they went in with Maggie reminding Beth to bring her bat.

"You think it's like this everywhere?" Beth asked, staring at her feet as glass from the broken window panes of the storefront crunched under her boots.

"I'd think we'd know if it weren't," Maggie sighed, not even having the heart to snicker when Beth grabbed a shopping basket and pulled it over her arm.

"It's like the farm is all that's left…_Maggie…_Maggie, what it _we're_ all that's left?"

She turned around at the panic in her sister's voice to find Beth rooted to her spot with the tears she had kept at bay rolling freely down her face. Maggie felt her heart drop and stared at her sister with as much assurance as she could muster for not knowing herself. Being an older sister, Maggie was used to answering questions from Beth and Shawn, especially ones their parents wouldn't or were too embarrassing to ask Hershel and Annette to begin with, and she had learned confidence was key even when being as clueless as her siblings.

"We're not the only people, Beth. I promise."

_Liar._

"Really? Have you seen other people?"

"Sure…sometimes."

_Kind of_.

There was the one rusty red Volvo she had spotted turning a corner on a supply run. Someone had to have been behind the wheel she assumed.

"You ever talk to any of them?"

"No," She answered honestly. "None of them were up close or anything, just passing through...Besides, you can't be too careful with people you don't know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Beth cried in alarm.

"It means keep your eyes open and bat held a little firmer. I can't watch you every second."

Beth nodded and did as she was told, remaining quiet as they perused the aisles, and Maggie couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. She hadn't been overly enthused when she was told to take her sister into what she knew could potentially become a dangerous trip without notice, but Maggie had thought she would be urging Beth away from the magazine aisle and shooting down her whim to visit the library across from the high school not looking over her shoulder to make sure Beth hadn't outright fainted from fear.

It was as if the rose-colored glasses Hershel had secured on the bridge of her sister's nose had started to slip down. Maggie felt guilty, and she had worried about Jimmy stealing Beth's innocence when it was her who had kicked the sixteen-year-old into the deep end. She should have told her father no when told to bring Beth along, yet Maggie was strangely glad she hadn't, feeling a bit less lonely that Beth was beginning to see what she saw.

"You're ready to go aren't you?" Maggie asked as soon as the necessities on their shopping list compiled by Patricia mostly were picked out.

Maggie didn't even bother suggesting strolling down the less trampled rows still stuffed full of spring decorations, pastel cards, and candy. Beth would like those rows and no doubt be reminded of times spent grocery shopping with Annette and turning down the lanes just because. Yet, that was the last thing Beth needed she knew. Beth had inadvertently been overwhelmed enough for the afternoon, and Maggie didn't even begrudge being away from the farm for that long when Beth sighed in relief from atop her horse again.

Beth led the way, eager to get home and leave the eerily empty streets behind. Maggie was pleasantly surprised when her sister remembered the old trails weaving through the trees they had run through and ridden horses on when they were younger. The trails weren't exclusive to them growing up, and it was natural to find trails beginning in arbitrary spots on the side of the rode and winding up in dead ends along creek beds or giving way to secret forts on the edge of someone's property.

"Race ya!" Beth called, and before Maggie could protest, her sister was gone with her blonde hair flying behind her.

She nudged her own horse to a gallop, and avoiding the low-hanging branches of trees and brush scratching at her legs, Maggie began to smile at the sight of Beth sticking out her tongue over her shoulder, taunting her. However, her smile never reached her eyes when she spotted the figure obscured by the greenery. Pawing at the bramble and looking worse for wear—it could only be one thing.

Someone undead.

Beth must have noticed what she was about to pass too, and Maggie was closing in on her when Beth whipped her bat out and swung it with such force that would have impressed Maggie had the situation not been so serious. Thinking of Annette and Shawn, she couldn't bear to think of Beth dying too and having to watch her sister wander around aimlessly in the dark barn. Without qualm, Maggie didn't stop and ran directly into the figure.

"Soph…_oomph_!"

It fell instantly to the side and rolled down the incline of the creek bed not two feet off with its words lingering in its wake. Maggie shared a look with Beth, knowing her sister had made the same realization she had by the look of alarm in her eye. The sick people, the undead collected in their barn made noise—groaning and snarling guttural sounds, but they most certainly didn't begin to form words or cry out in pain.

Maggie and Beth scrambled off their horses, and standing at the edge of the incline, they looked down on the man they had just attacked and injured without cause.

"_You think he's dead_?" Beth asked uneasily, looking to Maggie.

"I don't know...Why'd you have to hit him so hard with the bat?" Maggie lamented worriedly as she scooted cautiously on her bottom down the incline with Beth following her.

"You're—you're the one that trampled him with a horse!" Beth gaped before sighing.

Maggie rushed to the man, checking his pulse and relieved to find it. His eyes were shut, and she could only assume he was unconscious. His limbs were carelessly and awkwardly surrounding him, and she wondered how many of the snaps hadn't been breaking branches as he fell. Several nasty gashes were visible where his pants and shirt had been ripped.

"We knocked him out. I think."

"That's not so bad...Right?" Beth shrugged uncomfortably. "Maybe...maybe, we can just take him to Dad! He can fix him!"

"Daddy's a vet, Beth, not a doctor. Besides, I don't think he'll be too happy about us bringing home a stranger."

"That's true," Beth mumbled, looking over the man they had subdued. "Think he's bitten? I don't think I see any bites on him."

"Me either," Maggie commented before tentatively rolling up the man's shirt and exposing his chest.

"Maggie! What're you doing?" Beth asked in alarm, appearing as though she was about to smack Maggie's hand away.

"Just checking he doesn't have any bites."

"Under his shirt!"

"Beth, it's not his pants," She rolled her eyes.

"Well, how do I not know you weren't going to check there next!"

"Would you be quiet. You're gonna bring an actual sick person down on us," Maggie shushed, feeling her cheeks burn as she realized she was looking at a strange man's chest without his approval.

"Sick?" Beth scoffed. "Dad is so wrong isn't he? They're not sick. They're—they're crazy...They're dead."

Beth gave a sad look, and Maggie pulled the muddy shirt back over the man's torso, not bothering to check his back and realizing how glad she was that he hadn't suddenly woken up. If the stranger was bitten or scratched, there was nothing they could do for him anyway.

"No, they're not sick," Maggie confirmed, and Beth swiped at the tears lingering in the corners of her eyes.

"I think I knew," Beth focused in on her hands in her lap. "I just didn't want to. You know? I just wanted to believe that Mama and Shawn would get better…that everything would go back to the way it was before."

"That's not gonna happen."

"I know…but Dad must really think that Maggie. He never would have let me come to town with you or ever have even let you leave the farm. He must really think…" Beth broke down crying, and Maggie pulled her younger sister to her in a hug.

They were covered in mud with murky water lapping at their knees and feet, and Maggie looked at the stranger's face, watching his dark hair fan out on the water's surface. The horses brayed at the top of incline, nickering at each other, and she focused in on her sister's heart beating close to her own. None of what had transpired was supposed to have happened, but there they were. Maggie felt guilty for dragging who could possibly be an innocent bystander and was at the very least their victim into their troubles. He looked nice enough, normal enough, and she rolled her eyes at the mess she, Beth, and he was in.

"Maggie?" Beth sniffed after a few minutes and emerged from the cocoon Maggie's arms had created and enveloped her in. Her blonde hair was matted to her wet cheeks.

"Hmm?"

"I know why Daddy let me come. He really doesn't see the danger, but Maggie, you knew…" She shook her head in confusion.

"I honestly didn't think anything would happen. It usually doesn't, but you needed to know," Maggie swallowed, laughing wryly. "Though this isn't the best example..."

"No," Beth laughed.

"—But…at least you know now."

"At least I know," She murmured, pulling away and sighed. "What're we gonna do?"

"We can't leave him here, and we can't take him home," Maggie said. "We're gonna have to find somewhere else to keep him."

"You can't be serious. We can't just keep strange men, Maggie!" Beth admonished.

"I didn't say we were _keeping_ him…We're just…" Maggie rolled her eyes, and Beth gave a pointed look at the Asian man unconscious in the mud, "Borrowing him."

"Borrowing him from who? His other crazy, psycho friends…_with_ _guns_?"

"Please, Otis carries a gun."

"Otis doesn't aim it at people," She grumbled. "At least he might have been aiming at me…I don't know—one second he was this muddy creature and the next he was this guy with a gun rolling down the hill."

"So what? You want to just leave him for dead?"

"_Nooo_…but he's not technically dead. If we just sneak away now, he'll never know."

"And what if he doesn't wake up soon, Beth? What if one of the sick or—or not sick—one of the undead people come through here? He could get bit. For all we know, it could rain and the creek could rise. I'm not gonna let him drown in six inches of water. Are you?"

Beth tugged at her lip nervously, and Maggie waited for her to come around. Her sister would be scared of her shadow on a bright day if it wasn't for Maggie and Shawn's poking and prodding at their younger sister in jest throughout her childhood. Shawn would jump out of closets to make her scream, and Maggie would make ghost noises in the barn when Beth was doing chores before dropping a flapping chicken on her head.

She had been tormented in sport, and though Maggie felt a little badly for some of her antics, she knew her sister was better off for them. Beth had learned to not let fear rule her, and Maggie had never been so humiliated nor so proud when Beth along with the help of one of her school friends had Maggie and Shawn running like lunatics out of the old cemetery on the far side of town the summer before.

"Fine, but what if he is dangerous…"

"—He's not dangerous."

"But what if he is?"

"I don't think dangerous men carry dolls," Maggie pointed out the dirty rag doll that had fallen to his side after the tumble down the hill, giving the man the benefit of the doubt that he didn't have the doll for other more worrisome reasons. "Besides, we're the one who attacked him."

"He held his gun up."

"Wouldn't you if you heard a loud noise coming toward you in the woods?"

"Maybe…you think he has a little girl?" Beth asked, plucking the dirty doll from the mud and pulling it in to her lap.

Maggie gave a look over the stranger. He was no older than her and looked terrible with a goose egg forming on his head and cuts and scrapes from his fall down the hill. She suspected more abrasions were covered under his clothes and mud, and she'd spotted purpling marks on his chest too from where her horse had rammed into him. Maggie didn't even know what to make of his leg that was a little too askew to be considered normal. There would be a lot of explaining to do when he woke up, and she swallowed hard, praying he did wake up after all the damage they had done.

The thought that he might have a daughter terrified her, and she thought of a little girl whose daddy wouldn't be coming home.

"Lord, I hope not."


	3. Wake Up and Smell the Coffee

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, "The Walking Dead" still doesn't belong to me.

* * *

Chapter 3: Wake Up and Smell the Coffee

-GLENN-

Don't go into the light.

It wasn't exactly rocket science, but then again, Glenn had never had a near-death experience and been tempted to stumble into an alluring light, not _that_ near-death of an experience at least. He'd faced down enough walkers that he had lost count, but never had he actually been taken down and seen the light, proverbial or otherwise.

He frowned a bit in disappointment not because he might be dying but the way in which he was dying. Glenn supposed if he _had_ to die he would have liked something a bit more impressive to light the way. In fact, the light enveloping him wasn't that ethereal at all, and he squinted at the dusty yellow illuminating his vision. It was a letdown of the whole promise of an afterlife.

Glenn scrunched his nose and admonished himself for criticizing his death. That probably wasn't allowed. Maybe, it was simply him. He might be dying wrong, and Glenn felt a surge of panic seize him. Of course if someone could die wrong, he could, and thinking of such a possibility, Glenn heard his own laugh resonate around his head…and voices—unfamiliar, feminine voices.

One came from the side, hesitant and higher pitched. The second woman's voice closed in on him, growing stronger as she drew closer. It was drawling and steady as it rippled across his skin, and Glenn was comforted by it, almost letting the voice lull him into the exhaustion that threatened to claim him. However, Glenn couldn't die or sleep or do whatever it was overcoming him.

_Not yet._ He thought

He was closing in on Sophia's trail, and he reached absentmindedly for the doll, feeling a rough texture meet his fingertips instead. Fragments of the voices filled his mind before settling in a long pause, and thoroughly confused, Glenn forced his eyes open and focused his energy to make sense of his surroundings. His headache wasn't helping, but then, his entire body seemed impaired as he groaned in agony at his discomfort.

"Hey," The second voice greeted him, and Glenn steadied his gaze.

A brunette around his age stood to his right, and Glenn felt his confusion take a backseat to the pleasant picture before him. The stranger was beautiful as far as he was concerned with the light highlighting the crown of her head and gracing the tanned skin of her cheeks, but Glenn focused mainly on her green eyes darting around, surprised that she was looking at him. Glenn frowned, realizing she was looking him up and down worriedly before finally looking him in the eye.

"_Hi…_?" He mumbled tiredly, kicking himself for how lame he supposed he sounded.

"You've been asleep awhile."

"No…I…" Glenn shook his head but stopped himself before he launched into an explanation that he only just fallen down.

Something was off he knew, and Glenn looked beyond the brunette, realizing he definitely hadn't died. He was just waking up which was a relief. What worried him was that Glenn wasn't where he was supposed to be.

The creek bed was gone along with the daylight judging by the darkness outside the window. In fact, he wasn't even outside but lying on a bare mattress in a room comprised of termite ridden walls that were nearly falling down. The room couldn't possibly be lived in he assumed, and he shuddered to think that it could be. Desiring a better look, Glenn strained to sit up, prepared to use his arms when he realized suddenly he couldn't, finding them contorted into a strange position above his head. Both his wrists were bound to rusted, iron slats of a headboard.

The beautiful stranger took a step back, and he heard a squeak of panic from the owner of the softer voice—a thin blonde, standing with her arms wound around herself nervously.

Strangers, bound hands, an unfamiliar location—he'd done this before.

"Why me?" He lamented quietly, dropping his head back on to the mattress.

It simply wasn't fair for a person to be kidnapped twice in their lifetime let alone twice in the span of a few weeks. It shouldn't be allowed. There should be some sort of stamp or sticker—an endorsement on the back of a license perhaps—to denote that someone had been kidnapped already in their lifetime and therefore couldn't be taken again. A get-out-of-kidnapping-free card.

Then again, there was a certain more likeable element about his second kidnapping that wasn't so bad he presumed despite however worrisome it was. He couldn't help but watch the brunette as she moved toward the shabby nightstand a few feet away, and as she did so, he noticed a few other peculiarities not prevalent in his first kidnapping but startling real about his current situation.

No shoes, no shirt…_no_ _pants_.

His eyes grew wide when the brunette reached behind the nightstand. Her fingers wound around the neck of a baseball bat as it loosely dangled by her side, and Glenn suspiciously wondered if that had been the reason he had seen stars and met the creek bed a second time. She stepped a bit closer again, and he uncomfortably did nothing, both because he was physically unable with bound wrists and near incapacitating pain pulsing in various parts of his body and because a small part of him didn't think to do anything.

She was beautiful, and he was tied up. A few unbidden fantasies ran through his mind entailing himself, the brunette, and preferably at least a clean sheet on the odor-infused mattress, and Glenn inwardly groaned at himself. It wasn't the time for fantasizing. She could be crazy for all he knew and planned to kill him. She _did_ have a bat, but thinking of his current predicament and the strangeness of it, Glenn was beginning to think he was the crazy one.

"What have you done to me?" Glenn asked skeptically.

"I can assure you. We didn't _do_ anything to you," She replied half amused.

"Then how...?" He wondered, knowing some course of events linked where he had been to where he was.

"We didn't do anything to you maliciously that is," She amended, not meeting his eye.

"But someone did hit me in the head right? With that I guess?" He checked, nodding at the bat.

"That was me," The blonde confessed, and Glenn had almost forgotten her presence before she added in a rush. "—But the rest was Maggie. She ran you over with a horse."

"_Really_, Beth? Just throw _me_ under the horse why don't you," The brunette, Maggie, hissed at the blonde in disbelief.

"Just taking your cue," The blonde named Beth smirked.

"You ran me over with a horse? Why?" Glenn asked Maggie in shock, feeling quite offended suddenly, and remembering his mother's warning to watch out for the pretty ones, they were dangerous. "I fell down into the creek! You know that was the second time I fell into a creek today?"

"Well, I'm only responsible for one time," Maggie replied defensively, shifting her irritation from Beth to Glenn. "It's not my fault you're accident prone."

"Oh, it's not your fault you beat me up!" Pain rushed through his head at the exclamation.

"Beth started it," She quipped lamely with a glance to the other girl.

"You gave me the bat!" Beth cried appalled.

"Are you serious?" A laughed threatened to erupt at the absurdity, reminded of countless times his sisters bickered, but any laugh was stifled as he winced uncomfortably.

"Are you done whining?" Maggie checked.

"Are you always this…You know what..._nevermind_."

"Am I always what? _Bitchy_?"

"No," He scoffed. "I didn't say that."

"You wanted to."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Oh, then what were you going to say?"

"Does it matter?"

Crazy was the word he was going for. Crazy, bitchy—Glenn wasn't sure there was a difference in how Maggie would react to either one. He had sisters. He knew things, not enough to stop himself from putting his foot in his mouth, but still, he knew not to do it twice. He should have kept his eyes closed and continued imagining that he was dying. His introduction with his captor wasn't going well.

"It could," Maggie smirked. "I still have the upper hand."

"Because _you_ have _me_ tied up!" He reminded her.

"Careful, you might just stay that way!"

"—Maybe I should leave," Beth squeaked awkwardly, and Glenn glanced to her standing at the foot of the bed.

Glenn leaned back, biting his lip. He watched with interest as Maggie nearly jumped back from the side of the bed as her jaw that had been left gaping open shut slowly. She cleared her throat.

"No," Maggie replied after a silence.

"I'll go anyways," Beth mumbled and disappeared.

"Where is she going?" Glenn asked anxiously as soon as Beth exited, leaving the door open in her wake and hoping the blonde wasn't going to bring anyone else back with her such as more captors more akin to the physical presence of the vatos but lacking their good moral fiber.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Maggie smirked and turned around.

_Don't check her out_…He thought. _She's crazy._

He checked her out, and Glenn rolled his eye with a sigh as Maggie sat down in a folding chair set under the window. She made a point to set her baseball bat on her lap, and Glenn regretted breaking up their search party, feeling vulnerable at Maggie's whim and wishing he had some backup.

"Are you really not going to untie me?" He asked.

"No," She answered flatly.

"Wh-why not?" Even the vatos had untied him after pretending that they were going to drop him off a rooftop; he still just kind of hoped they were making a point at least.

"Because we don't know you."

"Right," He smirked. "You don't know me…you do realize you're the one that kidnapped me?"

"Beth and I did no such thing."

"Oh really? Then what's this for?" He shook his arms and the entire bed shuddered with a displeasing creak.

"Security?"

"_Security_?"

"Not for you obviously," Maggie snorted before sighing heavily and licking her lips. "—We didn't mean to do this. Ya know? It just sort of happened…"

"You just sort of kidnap people?"

"—Well, Beth thought you were sick…"

"You just sort of kidnap _sick_ people?" Glenn cried in panic. "I can assure you that's not better."

"Would you just let me explain?" She said with glare, and Glenn narrowed his eyes.

"Fine," He answered bitterly, and she huffed.

"My sister thought you were sick…" She must have noticed his confusion as she explained, "—Like the fever sick, undead, I guess…"

"Walkers. That's what my group calls them," He supplied, feeling a bit better to know Beth hadn't left to bring in reinforcements.

So, it was two on one. He could take them…once he wasn't tied up, he was healed, and so long as he didn't hit either Maggie or Beth in the process considering they were girls. Glenn suddenly found the whole idea of escape ludicrous. Before the outbreak, he'd have tumbled down the creek side a third time to catch someone like Maggie if that's what it took, and there he was planning to run. He must have hit his head very hard he mused.

"_Walkers_," Maggie let the word roll around on her tongue. "Well, Beth thought you were one of them, panicked, and hit you on the head. I did knock you into the creek with my horse though…sorry."

"And the strip search?" Glenn bit his lip half-mortified.

"Don't flatter yourself. It's not like that," She replied confidently though her cheeks turned red. "We just did a good job of rendering you incapacitated as you can tell. Trust me. If you weren't tied to the bed and could sit up, you'd see all the cuts and bruises on you."

"But really…down to my boxers?"

"You're clothes are ripped up let alone clean. You might as well just beg for infection with all the mud that would be in your open wounds," Maggie scoffed. "Besides it was hard enough undressing you without your help let alone redressing you…You should be thanking us anyways for helping you."

"Thanking you?"

"Better than being dead in a ditch isn't it? We cleaned the cuts and scrapes. The gash on your leg is still pretty bad. Then again, your other leg is probably broken so I don't know which is worse. We set that leg as best we could, and stitched up your head along with..."

"—There're stitches in my head?" Glenn tried in vain to see them as if turning his head would make it possible.

"About a dozen…it wasn't too deep."

"Oh well as long as it wasn't too deep," Glenn snipped before adding begrudgingly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," She replied triumphantly though her air of brazenness faded quickly. "Least we could do—make sure you didn't die after everything."

Modesty seemed to wash over her in a wave, and Glenn felt his own irritation calm. One leg was sore, one leg actually felt broken as she described, and his hands were useless to him, but somehow knowing it wasn't done for sport or more sinister reasons but accidentally did help. He was beginning to think being a captive was pretty okay all things considering.

He wasn't even really angry by the situation, and he didn't want to be, not liking the look of guilt shadowing Maggie's features. It didn't suit her. He already preferred her bright, however proud, smile to her frown.

Thinking of his arms stretched awkwardly above his head still, he couldn't help but ask again.

"_Sooo_…you think you could untie me now?"

"No," She laughed instantly.

"What? Why?"

It didn't make sense. He had just thanked her for her help when it was Maggie herself that injured him.

"You could still be dangerous."

"_I_ could be dangerous?" Glenn laughed.

"Well, we aren't going to take the chance you are. That's why we tied you up. We took your gun too by the way."

"Of course you did."

"Don't worry we'll give it back…_just not with the bullets in it_…_and_ when we let you go that is."

"And when's that?"

"When you're not half dead. This is the first time you've been coherent. You've been in and out of unconsciousness for an entire day."

"A—a day?" He choked in disbelief, feeling his stomach drop out of his feet. He had thought he had taken a short nap—an hour tops.

"It's just after sunset," She confirmed. "Beth and I patched you up here as best we could last night."

"Where is here?" He queried.

"Abandoned house…we can't really take you home cause…" Maggie trailed off. "Well, after we propped you up here, we went home. I came back with supplies and stitched you up and what not. Beth brought back more supplies early this morning."

Glenn narrowed his eyes curiously. They lived at home. It shouldn't be quite so strange, but the more days passed, the more Glenn forgot about his apartment. Grant it, it had been cramped and his dishwasher had recently broken, but it was his right down to the pizza box appropriately left forever to reside alongside his trashcan. He shook the thought of his childhood home from his mind before he was claimed by grief.

Instead, he focused on Maggie.

"You?"

"I stayed here," Maggie replied to his unspoken question.

"With me," Glenn knew he had been told not to be flattered, but he was.

She nodded her assent, and as much as he was truly grateful, Glenn also felt the reality sink in.

An entire day gone—he'd been so close to finding Sophia, but that was a day ago. Glenn closed his eyes, warding out the light and Maggie entirely. He'd failed her, maybe not intentionally but nevertheless, and though he wasn't a praying type, never having set his mind to such a task before, Glenn prayed. It was stuttered and quick in his head, but he hoped God got the gist anyways, that he just knew Glenn's concerns over Sophia's safety.

"Are you in pain?"

Glenn opened his eyes to find Maggie watching him anxiously.

"It's just you look in pain. I can give you some pain reliever."

"Yeah," He nodded slowly and truthfully. "Yeah, I'm in pain."

Maggie nodded, and after the slightest hesitation, she left the bat sitting in the chair and left. Glenn listened to the intelligible murmur of the two sisters' voices for a minute before she returned. A bottle of water and an orange medicine bottle were held in one of her hands; a rag doll was clutched in the other.

"Where did you get that?"

"We found it next to you," She explained, setting it on the nightstand. "I suppose we can return it now."

Glenn kept his eye on Sophia's doll, tearing his gaze away when Maggie offered him a couple pills. It was strange, meeting her eyes as she held her cupped hand up to his mouth, and he swallowed the pills before she even held the water bottle to his lips. As for the water, he downed half without sudden care to being tied up and relying on her. He was parched, fighting against exhaustion still.

Maggie set the bottle on the nightstand by the doll before looking back at him.

"What's her name?" She asked.

"Sophia," He replied, and Maggie smiled softly.

"How old is she?"

"Twelve."

"Twelve?" She furrowed her brow.

"Oh…oh no, she's not mine," He assured her in a rush. "I don't have kids…um, Sophia's Carol's daughter. They're in our group."

"Are they family?"

"No, we're not family. I mean other than Sophia and Carol and the Grimes' and their son, no one is related. We all just came together since the outbreak…There used to be others—_a lot of others_." Glenn added, thinking of the holes at the quarry camp no one could understand why Jim was digging until they were suddenly needed.

"What happened to 'em?"

"They're gone," Glenn explained simply. "Dead or turned in to walkers. There's eleven of us left."

"Was she with you in the woods," Maggie snapped her head up in alarm. "We didn't see her…"

"—No um, she—Sophia was missing. She was chased from this traffic area, a whole bunch of abandoned cars on the highway where we were scavenging, and into the woods by a couple walkers. The walkers were killed, but well, no one could find Sophia afterwards. A few of us were looking for her."

"And you didn't find her," Maggie said without question, stepping closer with her arms crossed as she looked to the dark night outside the window before looking back at the doll. "You must've been close if you found her doll."

"Yeah," Glenn said dejectedly and reveling in minor relief provided as the pain reliever kicked it.

"I'm sorry for all this."

"It isn't your fault."

"Now you're just being nice."

"Don't flatter yourself," Glenn yawned, peering at Maggie who nodded with an amused expression but wasn't convinced.

"_Please_ like I didn't see you looking at me," She snorted, and in the exhaustion ebbing at him again, Glenn did well to open his eyes up and stare back at the brunette whose gaze was fixed on his.

"I…uh."

_Smooth_, He thought.

"How 'bout we just call it even, and you get some sleep."

"You're just trying to distract me from the fact that you still haven't untied me," Glenn countered.

"Bethie would kill me if I untied you just yet. She thinks you're a mad man still."

"Do you?" Glenn snorted.

Maggie didn't answer either way, and Glenn's eyes fell closed.

He didn't bother to open them again either, welcoming the relief of the medicine kicking in from the pain. Glenn felt the weight of the bed sink a bit beside him and heard her voice that was closer than it had been before.

"By the way, what's your name?"

"Glenn…Maggie?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you taking advantage of me?" He asked tiredly, feeling fingertips brush against his forehead.

"I'm checking your cut. Go to sleep, Glenn," Maggie encouraged, and he did as he was told whether he meant to or not.

And when Glenn awoke, he rubbed the lingering sleep from his eyes with his hand, thinking it was a strange dream. What was stranger was that he wasn't completely disappointed to find that it wasn't.

Interestingly, he realized his left arm was freed, and he frowned to realize his right arm wasn't. Though it was no longer tied to the headboard, his wrist was tied to the iron slat of the bed's frame just below the mattress at a much more comfortable angle. In fact, several things were more comfortable at least given his position. He had socks on, was covered with a blanket, and a pillow was under his head. Glenn examined fresh ointment greasy and shiny on his cuts and scrapes.

All in all, he couldn't walk away still, but looking on the bright side, he hadn't died. And looking to the doll, he hoped Sophia hadn't either.


End file.
